


Take 20 caplets every 4-6 hours...

by zsomeone



Category: Metalocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-06
Updated: 2010-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-16 20:23:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3501641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zsomeone/pseuds/zsomeone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A prank, a shortage of common sense, and a solution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take 20 caplets every 4-6 hours...

Skwisgaar had been wondering where everybody was at. After a bit of searching, he found Murderface and Pickles in the hot tub. “Heys, where ams everybody else?”  
Pickles shrugged. “I gat no idea where Nathan went, but Toki’s over there.” He pointed across the room.  
In the shadows, he could see Toki sitting slumped against the door. He seemed to be trying to wave to him. Maybe.

This was odd, so Skwisgaar wandered over for a closer look.  
Toki appeared to be very drugged, and even stranger, was securely attached to the doorknob with a set of fuzzy leopard print handcuffs. He seemed unable to speak, but was gesturing in an very uncoordinated manner.  
Confused, Skwisgaar went back to the others.

“Guys, I tink dat Toki ams needings some help.”  
“Juscht leave him there, it’sch schafer.” Murderface seemed rather unconcerned.  
“Yeah dude, we were afraid he was gonna hurt himself, so we did thet. Now he can’t fall in tha hawt tub an’ drown or anythin’.”  
Across the room, Toki seemed to be trying to touch something that only he could see. This wasn’t all that normal.

“Pickle, what did yous gives him?”  
“Eh, it’s jest cold medicine. He said he might be gittin’ a cold.”  
Cold medicine? “Ja? How _much_ colds medicine?”  
Murderface pointed to some boxes on the floor. “We told him to follow the directionsch.”  
Skwisgaar picked up a box and read the back. Somebody had thought it would be cute to add a ‘0', changing the dosage to 20 caplets every 4-6 hours.

It was impossible to tell which one was guilty, they were both laughing.  
“He takes 20 of dese? But won’ts dat kills him or someting?”  
“I gat no idea, but it hasn’t yet. He’s jest acting real funny.” Or at least he had been, before they’s so thoughtfully restrained him.  
“Buts we can’ts just be leavings him dere likes dat! We gots to does someting to try to helps him.”

They didn’t agree. “You cut him loosche, he’sch your problem.”   
“Fines den. Gives me de keys.” He hadn’t set out planning to babysit, but he couldn’t just leave the poor guy chained up like that.  
“Cahm on Skwisgaar, don’t tell me ya’ve never used those kind before. No keys, jest a catch ya gatta flick.”  
Oh, _those_ kind. Yes, he was familiar with how they worked.

Crossing the room, he undid the cuff from Toki’s wrist and tried to pull him to his feet.  
Toki made it halfway, the fell over into the wall and slid down.  
“Toki, gets up. Don’ts be making me drags you.” Skwisgaar tried again, this time managing to get him all the way to his feet. He pinned him to the wall with one hand while he though of how to make him walk, and where to take him once he’d figured that part out.

Skwisgaar draped Toki’s arm over his shoulders, the height difference made this awkward but he couldn’t think of anything else.  
Toki sagged quite badly, forcing him to wrap his free arm around his waist to support him. “We ams walking now, comes on.”  
Where to go? He clearly couldn’t leave Toki unattended right now, so he might as well be comfortable. His room it was then.

Toki collapsed as Skwisgaar let go, but he landed on the bed. The furry, furry bed. He started petting it in wonder.  
“Toki, lays down, sleeps it off. Okays?” He gave him a little shove, toppling him over. “I stays here and makes sure you doesn’t dies.”   
There was a sharp pull as Toki’s uncoordinated grab caught a handful of hair. With a sigh, Skwisgaar lay down and worked his hair free.

Before he could sit back up, more hair was grabbed. It seemed that Toki had given up on the blanket and was trying to pet _him_ now, and doing it quite badly.  
Giving up, he tried to get comfortable.  
His guitar was unfortunately out of reach, and he was trapped by the hands in his hair.  
How long before this stuff wore off? It was going to be a long day.


End file.
